


In Mourning

by CityEscape4



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Zexal
Genre: Canonical Character Death, First Lives, Gen, I posted this forever ago on Tumblr and never put it here; why? i have no clue, also the pairing is intentionally left vague enough so it can be seen as either platonic or romantic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:34:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25929706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CityEscape4/pseuds/CityEscape4
Summary: Merag's death hit Durbe hard, but he knows he has to keep it together, for Nasch's sake.
Relationships: Durbe/Nasch
Kudos: 6





	In Mourning

He’d experienced loss before.

There were fellow knights, brothers in arms, that he’d trained with and fought with that he’d outlived. He’d both watched them die on the battlefield, and he’d heard of their deaths when they were seas and kingdoms apart. Death was no stranger to him.

And naturally, he’d come to grow to care for these people. Just because his profession of choice wasn’t one for the faint of heart, didn’t mean his own was steely and cold. He’d grieved over his fallen brethren, he never forgot them. Some were older than he was with more years of experience than even his 15 years of life, others were unfortunately younger. But this?

This, he decided, was what a true ‘tragedy’ felt like.

The aftermath of Vector’s attack had been excruciatingly brutal. That was the nicest way to put it. Nasch’s men were hit hard, some physically, many mentally, especially with this having been Vector’s most ruthless attack yet.

But the person who’d suffered the most was right in front of Durbe, her lifeless body being cradled in Nasch’s arms.

The pit he’d felt in his stomach when he’d watched Merag fall to her death was still settled in his gut wretchedly, the urge to vomit suppressed as best he could manage. His entire body was trembling, and if it wasn’t for the stabilizing support Mach was currently providing him with, he would have fallen to his knees, the reality of what had just been lost to them all becoming heavier and heavier to bear.

He’d rarely cried over fallen comrades before, the only time he could remember was when a promising young knight younger than he had been slain rather brutally on the field of battle, the enemy showing no restraint, even on one as young as they.

But now? He wanted to scream his anguish, his agony over what should have been a death he’d never live to see. He wanted to curl up and sob, to scream profanity after profanity at the sky, to let himself, just this once, break down.

But he didn’t. He held back from such behavior.

After all, Nasch was already doing it himself.

All Durbe could allow himself to do was close his eyes and bow his head, silently cursing Vector, as Nasch openly grieved for his fallen twin sister.

* * *

The next day wasn’t any different.

He would have called Merag’s funeral beautiful, the kingdom having spared no expense for the open service for final farewells to their princess, but to call such a melancholic gathering 'beautiful’ seemed inappropriate in Durbe’s mind.

Eventually, Nasch had demanded all to leave the room, and none dared oppose the now familyless King, Durbe being one of those still in the room after the kingdom had processed in and out with their crying and their goodbyes and their offerings to a princess who would grace them no more.

Though as Nasch called for Durbe specifically to wait, Durbe dutifully stayed in the room, Nasch not making another sound or movement until the doors to the room had sealed with a definitive, heavy 'thud’.

When Nasch, who was currently standing at Merag’s casket with his back towards Durbe, still made no motion of any sort, Durbe walked across the room, placing a gloved hand on the king’s shoulder. “… Your highness?” Durbe’s tone, while still concerned, was dull, so empty of the energy it usually held.

He could feel Nasch trembling. His heart broke for his closest friend, who he knew was doing everything he could to hold it together.

He was unprepared for Nasch to turn around and hug him tightly, for Nasch to openly break down in front of him once more, for Nasch to bury his head against his shoulder and rack with anguished sobs.

Durbe might have been one year the twins’ elder, but at the moment he felt like a clueless child, so lost and unsure of what to do or say that would provide any sort of solice to the broken boy king.

And as much as he wanted to break down and cry with Nasch, he didn’t. He didn’t feel it appropriate to do so. He was an outsider, a foreigner to this kingdom, a stranger to its people. He might have been friends with the twins for a handful of years now, but that relationship was dust in the wind compared to the bond Nasch and Merag had. To cry now, with Nasch, as of he could even begin to comprehend what Nasch was feeling? It was wrong.

So he said nothing as he let Nasch cry as much as he needed, one hand at the king’s back, the other at the back of the king’s head. He didn’t argue as Nasch sagged against him, dragging him down to the foot of Merag’s casket, the young king unable to even stand anymore as his body racked with the sobs Durbe dare not attempt to stop.

He wasn’t sure how long they’d stayed in there. The sun had long stopped shining through the windows, making it impossible to tell how much time had passed. Durbe almost assumed Nasch’s energy had given out completely and the king had fallen asleep slumped against him.

The assumption was disproven though, as Nasch then pulled away from Durbe, sitting up straight. His gaze was on the ground, the king not meeting Durbe’s gaze in the slightest.

“… Nasch, are–.”

“I’ll kill him.”

Durbe tensed, Nasch speaking with such a grave finality to his voice that it made him question if this was truly the same Nasch he’d known for several years now.

When Nasch’s eyes finally met his own, Durbe could see that he was right to have questioned.

There was a fierce determination in Nasch’s blue eyes, one unlike Durbe had ever seen in his friend. Whatever young innocence had been in the boy kings crystellic sapphire gaze was long gone, replaced with an intense, burning hatred that chilled Durbe to his core.

“I’ll avenge Merag, and slaughter Vector with my own two hands.” Nasch stood then, Durbe quickly following suit. “I won’t rest until we find him, and his blood is splattered at my feet.”

“Nasch–”

“You’ll come with me, won’t you Durbe?” Nasch didn’t even look at Durbe as he closed Merag’s casket, his question less a question and more a statement.

Durbe didn’t hesitate in his answer. “Of course.”

Nasch nodded, and continued talking, though in all honesty, alot of it never met Durbe’s ears. He just watched Nasch in sad disbelief, nodding every so often, until Nasch left the room, leaving Durbe alone with a large wooden box that held Merag’s lifeless corpse.

Perhaps, he thought as he gazed emptily at the large dual doors, he shouldn’t have been mourning the loss of one dear friend.

Perhaps he should have been mourning the loss of two.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking commissions now! You can find my info [here!](https://city-writes.tumblr.com/post/613670764703580160/commissions-are-still-open)


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